Questioning myself

I'm still wondering why do I tend to believe in love... Is it even reasonable to believe in it? I guess it's not... At least, not the way I used to... at least, not today.

How can a comment turn into the worst weapon against someone you love? When did love turn into the need of changing someone to fit our interests, needs, likes and dislikes? When did love change its meaning into try to make your partner fit your personality? When did it happen? Why did I miss it...?

It's wonderful the way masks fall apart... Costumes come in different sizes, colours and shapes. I bought the most incredible and realistic wolf costume ever... You bought the best sheep costume... Now I wonder who's the sheep and who's the wolf. May be I fell in love with your costume, not with your true self... and viceversa...

Why is it so difficult to trust? I have never been able to answer the question, at least not properly. May be I've been hurt so many times that I'm a fragile porcelain doll: Don't touch it, it's been glued many times... Don't look at it... its tears might loosen the glue... Its destiny is to stare at the world on a shelf, in a showcase... but never touched... May be I'm just a bit too dramatic to think objectively and realise the truth in his words... May be I wasn't born to fall in love, may be I wasn't born to be loved either... Maybe... May be...

The game is over... I'm once and again into the real word, not the world of fantasy and love and happiness I used to live in... Here I am without a reason to smile, without a reason to feel beautiful... Here I am... unlovable again.